Independently of the vexatious trouble which this act of Lord Castlereagh's framing caused the booksellers, it was found materially to injure the spreading of knowledge. But it was for this very purpose that it became the law of the land. Lord Castlereagh was aware of the truism, that

"Men, once ignorant, are slaves!"

and consequently, to further his own unconstitutional views, he used every exertion to fetter the press and clap a padlock on the mouth of political knowledge. Wiser and better men, however, knowing that the free education of the people is the surest safeguard to the permanent happiness of the community, have lifted up their voices and given their votes against the subjugation of the Press,—the Leviathan protector of all that is worth living for. "The great mass of British subjects," said the venerable and patriotic Lord Erskine, "have no surer means of being informed of what passes in parliament and in the courts of justice, or of the general transactions of the world, than through cheap publications within their means of purchase; and I desire to express my dissent from that principle and opinion, that the safety of the state, and the happiness of the multitude in the laborious

[[200]]condition of life, may be best secured by their being kept in ignorance of political controversies and opinions. I hold, on the contrary, that the government of this country can only continue to be secure while it conducts itself with fidelity and justice, and as all its acts shall, as heretofore, be thoroughly known and understood by all classes of the people." Lord Erskine, however, is not singular in his view of this subject; for every philanthropist cannot but subscribe to the justice and equity of such doctrines. The prohibitory duty, therefore, on political periodicals must be considered as a scheme, emanating from a bad heart and weak head, to favour despotism. That law which requires publishers and printers of newspapers to enter into heavy securities, to answer to the consequences of the remote contingency of a LIBEL,—that is, publishing any thing having a tendency to bring either house of parliament or his majesty's ministers into contempt,—must ever operate perniciously to the cause of freedom. For is it not one of the most sacred duties which a rational being owes to society, to his family, and to himself, to endeavour to "bring into contempt" a government, if it really be contemptible? To what did we owe the wreck of our liberties, at this period, except to the contempt into which the preceding cabinets had been brought among the people? Is there an Englishman, possessing a particle of manhood, or breathing the inspirations of his ancestors, who would not blush at the human form, could he witness a being so debased as not to perpetuate the

[[201]]contempt into which public virtue had happily brought the names of Liverpool, Castlereagh, Eldon, Sidmouth, and the whole tribe of Tory locusts that so long fastened upon the vitals of his country? In America, the idea of indicting a man for endeavouring "to bring the government into contempt," would appear ludicrous. The language of the public authorities in America would be, "If the government is not contemptible, it will only gain strength from attacks; if it be contemptible, the citizens have a right to prove it so, and to demand a change: it is their duty to discuss the point, and to settle it by reason, and not to suppress it by indictment." Our readers will acknowledge, that we do not here advocate a doctrine we dare not practice; for we despise the unjustness of the "Six Acts," and will never allow their unconstitutional powers to intimidate us in the discharge of our public duty.

On the 29th of January,

1828,

parliament was opened by commission, when the ministry, headed by Lord Goderich, was dissolved. The Duke of Wellington and Mr. Peel succeeded the former premier and secretary of state,—a change that could not possibly afford any satisfaction to the public. Mr. Brougham, in an address to

[[202]]the House of Commons on this subject, said, "Though I entertain the highest opinion of the duke's military genius, still I do not like to see him at the head of the finances of the country, enjoying, as he does, the full and perfect confidence of his sovereign,—enjoying all the patronage of the crown,—enjoying the patronage of the army,—enjoying the patronage of the church,—and, in fact, enjoying almost all the patronage of the state. The noble duke is likewise entrusted with the delicate functions of conveying constant and delicate advice to the ears of his royal master. As a constitutional man, this state of things strikes me as being most unconstitutional." Mr. Brougham further added, "I have no fear of slavery being introduced into this country by the power of the sword. The noble duke (of Wellington) may take the army,—he may take the navy,—he may take the mitre, he may take the great seal,—I will make the noble duke a present of them all. Let him come on with his whole force, sword in hand, against the constitution, and the energies of the people of this country would not only beat him, but laugh at his efforts." These were the excellent sentiments of Mr. Brougham, and we wish the noble Lord Chancellor may long continue the undeviating advocate of the people's rights and liberties.

We have now to record the death of the Earl of Liverpool, which took place at his residence, Coome Wood, on the 4th of December, in the fifty-ninth